Love of His Afterlife
by Spinder-UndeadBallerina
Summary: When a dangerous gangster finds out that his girlfriend is really in love with Bonejangles, he sends him to his grave. Now Bonejangles is left in the Land of the Dead waiting for his girl and his revenge upon the man who killed him. BonejanglesOC
1. Prologue

haha, that's right! i'm back again with yet _another _fanfic that i probably won't finish. but guess what? it's a corpse bride fanfic! woah, crazy!...

* * *

"Why can't you understand?" Victor asked Emily, exasperated, "It was a mistake! I would never marry you!"

He wasn't sure what had made him say that, and he regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Emily was just as stunned. She stood with tears in her eyes for only a moment before turning from him and walked gracefully and morosely out of the room.

"Wait, Emily, I didn't mean-" Victor tried to run after her, but Elder Gutknecht stopped him with a look.

"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that, my boy," he told the young man gravely. "The damage is done, and you'll have to find another way to undo it."

Victor bowed his head in guilt. He had to fix things without them falling to pieces.

_I'm clumsy and shy and awkward, _he thought hopelessly, _I'll never be able to do this without help!_

**There was only one person in the Land of the Dead who could help Victor fix his mistake; the coolest cat of the underworld, the grooviest jazz player around: Bonejangles. And there was only one place that he would be: the Ball and Socket Pub.**


	2. Skeletal Assistance

first real chapter. enjoy.

* * *

Victor was correct in his assumption. The jazz playing skeleton was reclined in a rusted café chair in front of the Pub, his feet propped up on the small, round table. A half full mug of beer sat next to his bony feet. 

Bonejangles looked up when the young "breather" bounded up to him.

"Woah," he said in his gravelly voice, "Slow down, cat! Where's the fire?"

Victor chose to ignore this question as he had no idea as to what Bonejangles was talking about. "I need your help!" he said to the skeleton.

"Well, grab a seat, daddy-o, and tell me what's on your mind."

Victor did as he was instructed and proceeded to tell Bonejangles about his horrible mistake.

"I don't know what to do!" he concluded.

Bonejangles stared pensively at the Pub's swinging wooden sign above them before saying, "Y'know…Last I checked, ya were doin' everything in your power to get away from her. Why the change o' heart?"

Victor gulped. "I- I've come to care for her," he replied quietly, and a pang of guilt hit him as he thought of Victoria.

The skeleton chuckled huskily. "Well, ya can bet I'm glad to hear that. She's a good gal. A little moody at times, but, hey, I would be too if I'd been killed just before my wedding."

"Speaking of which," Victor interjected, his brows furrowed, "How _did _you die, Bo-"

"Uh, don't ya think you should apologize to Emily?" Bonejangles suggested hastily. Victor got the impression that he wasn't in the least bit comfortable talking about his death, so he decided to concentrate on the matter at hand.

"But, Bonejangles," he said forlornly, "Every time I say something to her, I'm either lying to her or insulting her. How can I possibly _apologize _to her without-" he paused to sigh- "messing everything up? She probably hates me now, anyway."

Bonejangles tilted his head casually, his single eye rolling from his left socket to his right.

"Dames are fickle like that," he said matter-of-factly, "Do one thing wrong an' they go crazy on ya." Victor waited as Bonejangles took a sip of his beer, the liquid spilling down his empty ribcage.

"You just gotta go with the flow, daddy-o," Bonejangles continued.

"Go with the flow?"

"Yeah, that's right. Just say whatcha feel, do whatcha feel and ya can't go wrong."

"Great," Victor moaned, "Expressing how I feel. One of _many _things I can't do right."

"Hey, cat, give yourself a chance!" Bonejangles gave him a light, friendly punch to the shoulder. "Here, lemme help you out. What is it that you do best? Y'know, your forté?"

"Well, I suppose…I suppose I play the piano rather well," Victor said uncertainly.

"There ya go!"

"But how will that-"

Bonejangles shushed him, and put a bony hand to where his ear might have been (if he still had one). "Hm, what's that I hear? Sounds like a…_piano_. The piano inside, in fact. I _wonder _who that could be? Why don'tcha go _see,_ Vic?"

Victor sighed, straightened his ascot, and walked shakily into the Pub.

"Good luck playin' those ivories, cat!" Bonejangles called after him and chuckled before finishing his beer in one final swig.


	3. With Love From LuLu

another chapter! hurrah! thank you for all the comments and critiques, they make me oh so happy!

* * *

Victor hesitated at the door, wringing his ascot furiously, even though he had just fixed it. He knew that Emily was inside, probably fuming, but more likely (judging by the tone of the song she was playing), she was miserable. Either way, Victor was at a loss for words, not to mention actions. 

"Thank you, Bonejangles, for your pearls of wisdom," he muttered irately, pacing back and forth in front of the door, sidling away and shuffling back again, "What do I do? Just walk in and start playing? No, no, that won't do…Maybe I should go think this over first…"

He walked away resolutely, only to hesitate once again. "No," he told himself sternly, "I have to start taking responsibility for my actions. This is as good a time as any…I suppose…"

Sighing deeply, Victor turned on his heel and back to the door of the pub, where he found Scraps holding Emily's tattered bouquet in his mouth. The little dog put it down delicately in front of his master and looked at him expectantly with his empty sockets, his tail waving to and fro.

Victor picked it up, determined this time, and walked into the dilapidated building before his doubts turned him out again.

Emily sat with her back to him, playing a simple, morose tune. Victor walked up behind her, and she pointedly ignored him. He cleared his throat…Nothing; no sign of acknowledgement, she just kept on playing. Finally deciding that he would indeed have to speak, Victor came around to her right side, holding out the bouquet uncertainly.

"I…" he started, hoping to say 'I'm sorry', but it came out, "I think you dropped this."

Victor mentally slapped himself. He was progressing abominably, and he had only just started! Emily apparently agreed, because she turned even farther from him and played a little louder. Victor sighed and set the bouquet on the top of the coffin-shaped piano before sitting down beside her. They were silent for a moment when Victor saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see Bonejangles, waving at him from the kitchen doorway. The skeleton made an ushering sign with his hands that Victor should start playing. Victor raised his eyebrows tentatively, and earnestly, Bonejangles nodded.

Gulping, Victor turned back to the piano.

_God help me, _he prayed silently before placing his hands on the sunken keys. He listened to a short phrase in Emily's song before she paused. In this pause, Victor mimicked the tune.

The Corpse Bride shot him a distasteful glare before continuing. Again, at the end of the phrase, Victor doggedly copied it, a little more confidently this time. Emily only rolled her eyes and played what sounded like the end of the song. Not if Victor could help it! He began playing a beautiful tinkling melody and stopped hesitantly, waiting for Emily to…do _something. _She didn't, so he kept playing, but this time, Emily joined in enthusiastically, giving Victor a halfhearted smile before it broke into a complete grin. In perfect time with one another, their song wafted through the dank air of the Ball and Socket Pub. Emily's hand rushed up the keys impressively, but didn't stop at arm's length; snapping off at the wrist, her bony hand continued up and up, climbing to Victor's shoulder, twirling and tapping, before it stopped.

She giggled and said softly, "Pardon my enthusiasm."

Victor took her displaced hand and popped it back in place, smiling. "I like your enthusiasm."

* * *

Bonejangles walked into the kitchen, smirking. "I think my work here is done," he told himself, and sat at the large wooden table next to the stove.

"Aren't they sweet?" Mrs. Plum, the cook, said as she peeked at Victor and Emily. "You really can solve any problem involving love, can't you, Bonejangles? Pity you don't have a girl of your own."

"Aw, come on, Miss Plum, you know I don't need any gal when I've got you!" Bonejangles joked.

Mrs. Plum laughed, embarrassed. "Oh, pish-posh!"

Bonejangles scraped idly at some flour caught in the grain of the wood of the table. "Y'know," he said quietly, "There…there was one girl. A long time ago." He looked up at Mrs. Plum. "I mean a _long _time ago. Before I kicked the bucket."

Mrs. Plum waited. _"And? _Tell me about her."

Bonejangles took off his beloved bowler hat, fingering the frayed silk before reaching in the cap and pulling out a ragged black and white photograph. He looked at it fondly before handing it over to the cook. The girl in the photo was dressed in a knee-length, loose dress and had long strings of pearls around her neck. She wore a scarf wrapped around her head, over her dark bobbed hair. She was smiling shyly and looked up with her doe eyes from under thick mascara-ed eyelashes. On the bottom right corner of the photo was a fading pink lip print and the words "With love from LuLu".

"What a pretty little thing," Mrs. Plum smiled.

"Ain't she a doll?" Bonejangles purred. "She woulda been mine, but…"

Mrs. Plum patted him sympathetically on the back and gave him the photo.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Nah, it's cool."

They both jumped when a large dinner bell was rung out in the pub. Mrs. Plum rushed gleefully out of the kitchen and cried, "New arrival!"

Bonejangles dashed out behind her, just as excited, to see the cook flirting with a drab looking man with plain clothes and a tall hat. Bonejangles' spirits fell, but he didn't let it show.

_Maybe next time, _he told himself. _Just gotta be patient…_

_

* * *

_

whee! 'nother chapter coming soon, i promise!


	4. A Not So Happy Birthday

man, i'm such a liar! "oh yeah, i'll have another chapter uploaded soon!" psh! soon, my foot! sorry everybody... 

disclaimer- i don't own bonejangles unfortunately. and i also don't own the song "come on-a my house". that one belongs to rosemary clooney.

warning: lotta 20s-30s slang used in here, so at some points it might make it a little confusing

* * *

A pair of hands wrapped around her face and covered her eyes.

"Guess who," a coarse voice said softly in her ear.

LuLu grinned and replied, "Bojangles, I'd know that voice anywhere!"

He laughed and turned LuLu around on her stool to face him. "Blows my cover, does it? I should work on that."

"You don't have to work on a thing! I think…" She blushed and looked at her hands, "I think you're swell just the way you are."

He laughed again and gave her a peck on the cheek. "And Kitten, I think _you're_ the shyest flapper I've ever met."

"Well…"

Before she could finish, the door opened quickly.

"Everything copasetic in here?" a gruff man asked.

"Yeah, everything's copasetic," LuLu replied, "Why?"

"'Cause you're on in five, doll! Shake a leg!"

"Oh, don't blow your wig! I'll be out there 'fore you can say 'Jack Robinson'."

The man closed the door with an exasperated sigh.

"Joe's right, Lu," Bojangles said as LuLu started rummaging around her dressing room. "You better dangle."

He sat down on the threadbare sofa in the corner

"Well, wait a minute!" she said, "You don't think I forgot, do you?"

She triumphantly pulled out a brown hatbox with a red ribbon tied around it and handed it to Bojangles.

"Happy birthday."

He grinned.

"You're a doll, Lu!" He put it aside to hug her, and she laughed.

"Oh, for crying out loud, Bojangles!" she said, "I gotta split before Joe blows a fuse. Open your present when you get the chance."

She quickly powdered her nose once more and adjusted the large silk flower in her hair.

"Break a leg, Lu," Bojangles said as she walked out the door. She closed it behind her, and the dressing room was silent. Bojangles pulled on the cuffs of his gray blazer and looked at the hatbox on the sofa. LuLu was such a sweetheart. He could tell that she cared about him, even if she already had a guy. Or rather, even though a guy already had her. Bojangles glared at his hands.

Harry Rubinetti was the guy's name, being an utter sleazeball was his game. He was the slimiest creature to ever curse the world with his presence, and it was he, of all the guys anywhere, who had LuLu. _Bojangles' _LuLu! He had that poor girl on a short leash and beat her like a rug. Someday Rubinetti would get what was coming to him. And Bojangles would be the one that made sure he got it. But until then, he'd lie low, because if Rubinetti knew that LuLu was with another guy, he'd make her life a living hell. That was the last thing Bojangles wanted.

He shook his head and looked back at his present. Smiling, he decided to open it. He pulled the red ribbon off and lifted the top.

"That girl!" he said to himself as he admired the black bowler that lay inside the box. "She'll spoil me rotten."

As he picked up the hat, a piece of paper fell out. He snatched it out of the air and saw that it was a picture of LuLu. 'With love from LuLu' it said in a corner, next to a pink lip print. On the back was a note:

"I hope you like the hat, Bojangles," it read, "I spent all day just picking it out."

There were a few scratched out words before it continued.

"You're a swell fella, a really swell fella, and I like you a lot. Well, I guess it goes a little further than that, and maybe you feel the same. But I don't want you in any trouble. Harry's got a mean temper on him and a jealous streak a mile wide. And that's why I want you to forget about me. Harry's got guys who'll bump you off in a jiffy and won't give a damn about it."

A few more scribbled out words.

"Before you forget about me, though, I better say what I've been meaning to say for a long time now: I love you, Bojangles. LuLu."

Bojangles glared at the note before turning it back over.

"Ain't no son-of-a-bitch greaseball gonna scare me away from you, LuLu," he told the photograph sternly, "You'll be _my _doll. Just the way it was meant to be."

* * *

"Come on-a my house, a my house, I'm gonna give you candy!" LuLu sang in the spotlight, her long necklaces sparkling, "Come on-a my house, a my house, I'm gonna give you apple an' a plum an' a apricot-a, too, ah!"

Bojangles watched her from the back of the speakeasy, his new bowler tipped fashionably to the side. A young man next to him ordered another beer. He was already a little drunk, but he didn't let that stop him.

"You're dizzy with that dame, ain't ya?" he asked Bojangles as he took a swig, "She'll send ya for a trip, though. Don't ya know who she is?"

Bojangles gave him a silencing look. The man only barely took the hint, and continued in a whisper.

"She's Harry's moll! As in Harry Rubinetti? As in _Harry the Hammer?"_

"Yeah, twit, I _know _who Harry the Hammer is," Bojangles hissed, "Now shut your yap!"

"Alright, Cat, alright!" He leaned back and took another swallow of beer. "I'm just givin' ya fair warning: you'll be in a hella dutch when Rubinetti finds out. A _hella _dutch!"

Bojangles knew he was right. He and LuLu couldn't keep it a secret forever.

"Hot _damn_, she's a sweet canary, though, ain't she?" the man whistled softly. Bojangles sighed exasperatedly.

"How many times do I have to tell you, genius? _Shut. Up."_

The song was over anyways, and another singer, a man this time, was setting up his microphone onstage. LuLu skipped over to Bojangles' table and smiled.

"Do you like the hat?" she asked.

"It's keen, Lu," he replied with a grin, "I'll wear it everyday from now on!"

She gave him a grateful laugh and started to walk away.

"Woah, Kitten!" Bojangles called after her, "Where are you going?"

"My dressing room," she explained, "to freshen up. I'll be back in a jif."

She flashed another smile and sidled her way through the crowd of dancing couples. That was when Bojangles made up his mind.

"We'll leave," he whispered.

"Speak up," the young man said.

"Not you! Me 'n' LuLu."

The man seemed to pull himself out of his slightly inebriated state. "Wait, wait, wait! Hold your horses! You 'n' LuLu? Leave? As in elope, or something?"

"Yeah!"

"But Rubinetti's got his goons in every corner of the state! You'll never make it without him knowing!"

"I don't need advice from a fella who's half seas over," Bojangles said as he left the table. The young man followed him.

"I am not!" he said indignantly.

"Five beers? Yeah, I think you are. Now will you scram?"

The man threw his hands up in the air. "Fine, I'll go! Just trying to help a fella out, but _nooo…_So I guess I'll split now."

"Thank God," Bojangles muttered under his breath.

Outside the corridor to the dressing rooms, he paused to adjust his tie before he went in.

"…gave me the low-down," a male voice said as it drifted through the crack under LuLu's door. Bojangles stopped dead to listen. It was Rubinetti. "So now I know the little shindig that's been going on behind my back. All I gotta find out now is who you've been pitching woo with while I ain't lookin'."

"No one, Harry," said LuLu's scared voice, "Honest!"

Bojangles flinched at the sound of a slap and LuLu's cry.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you." It was the young man again. He stood, slightly crouched, just behind Bojangles.

"Jesus! What do you want?" Bojangles asked. The man ignored the question.

"Rubinetti's packing heat, I can tell you now," he whispered.

"What do I care?" Bojangles asked, "My girl's in trouble!"

The young man held him back.

"For your own good," he said desperately, _"Get out of here! _He'll kill ya!"

"I'm not leaving LuLu."

With that, he slammed open the door and stood glowering in the doorway. The young man was right, he noticed; Rubinetti _was _armed, and his gun was pointed straight at LuLu.

The look on Rubinetti's face went from one of shock to grim satisfaction.

"Well, well, well," he cooed. "Is this your little boyfriend, LuLu?"

LuLu was a crumpled heap on the floor. She looked up at Bojangles through fearful, teary eyes.

"No," she whispered, "Leave him alone, Harry, _please!"_

"You liedto me, LuLu," Rubinetti said, keeping an eye on Bojangles, "Why should I give a damn what you want?"

"_Please, Harry...dont..."_

"Nah, I think I'll kill him."

LuLu burst into uncontrolled tears, and Rubinetti grinned smugly.

"You bastard," Bojangles said through clenched teeth. He walked in a slow semicircle around Rubinetti and over to LuLu.

"Get away from her!" Rubinetti warned. Bojangles ignored him.

"C'mon, doll," he said softly to LuLu, "Let's get out of here."

He helped her up and they walked to the door.

"Take one step out of this room and I bump you both!"

Bojangles moved LuLu discreetly out of Rubinetti's line of fire and took a step-

_BANG!_

_

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_

(EDIT- thanks for catching my little slip-up in the names, TK FoX! gives you a cookie)


	5. New Arrival on Christmas Eve

back again with just a wee chapter.it's actually kind of crappy and rushed. sorry guys. the only reason why i uploaded it tonight is because it's christmas eve, and that's when this chapter takes place.

just to clear up any confusion about when this is in comparison to the movie plot: emily, uhm, butterflied herself about a month ago.

* * *

Bonejangles sat in the nearly empty pub, gazing at his fleshless fingers. He guessed that everyone had already gone home to celebrate Christmas Eve. It seemed like everybody in the Land of the Dead had some sort of family with them…Everybody, that is, except Bonejangles. He sighed morosely. Last year, Emily had stayed with him at the Ball and Socket, seeing as she didn't have a family, either. They had a fine time, as Bonejangles remembered fondly. And Mrs. Plum even made a Christmas dinner for them.

"Are you alright, Bonejangles?"

_Speak of the devil, _he thought as he looked up at the worried cook. She seemed to be packing up to go home soon, too.

"I'm groovy," he said unconvincingly. "Merry Christmas and a happy New Year."

He stood and, with another long sigh, left the pub. Mrs. Plum shook her head sadly.

"Poor dear…"

Walking out the door, he braced himself for the December cold, forgetting that winter and summer didn't exist there. Rarely did it happen that Bonejangles forgot he was dead, but on occasion, little things like that would come up that would make him realize all over again: _I'm dead._ He was usually alright with this fact. Sometimes, though, when no one else was around, he would lose his laidback attitude and miss his old life.

Christmas was always fun when he was alive, especially with LuLu. They would go out in the streets and have snowball fights with the neighborhood kids or build snowmen. Afterwards, they'd drink hot chocolate laced with rum at the speakeasy.

"Not here, though," he muttered bitterly as he shuffled down the empty street, "No snowballs. No snowmen. Don't need a coat. Even if you wore one, you wouldn't get hot. Everyone's stone cold down here."

He sat down dejectedly on a splintery bench and pulled the photograph out from under his hat.

"Things wouldn't be half bad if I had some company, Lu," he said softly, "Now I don't mean to tell you to hurry up and die, but I'm rotting away down here. Literally. I'm not one for this 'Christmas wish' mumbo jumbo, but if I were, I guess I'd wish for you to be here with me, kitten."

She didn't answer, only stared all the more sweetly up at Bonejangles.

"If you were here," he murmured, "what would you tell me?"

He stared at her thoughtfully, remembering her personality and trying to formulate an answer to his question with it.

_You should never be unhappy, Bojangles, _he came up with finally, _especially not on Christmas Eve!_

He chuckled. "Thanks, Lu."

_But no snow fights? That _is _pretty bad._

He laughed aloud. She _would _say something like that, wouldn't she? She was a kid at heart, no doubt about it. She still held a fondness for dolls always found pleasure in catching fireflies. Not that there were any to be had in the city. Bonejangles laughed softly and shook his head.

_It's probably better like this, _he thought, _with her up there and me down here. I'm being selfish. _

After all, she was only nineteen when he died. It would be at least another fifty years before she came down to the Land of the Dead. That is, if nothing happened to her.

Bonejangles shook his head to rid it of horrible imaginary death scenes. He could never wish something like that on LuLu. All the same…

Suddenly, a loud sound caused him to jump. The series of alarm bells set up around the town began ringing violently. _New arrival!_

Bonejangles leapt up, putting LuLu's photograph back in its proper place as he ran back to the pub.

"Don't get your hopes up, cat," he told himself breathlessly as he ran down the alleyways, "It wasn't her last time, and it probably isn't her this time."

But he couldn't convince himself of it. It just _had _to be her! After all that Christmas wish junk, the timing was just too perfect!

Like a whirlwind, he rounded the corner to the pub and rushed through the door.

* * *

teehee, it's a christmas cliffhanger! oh how festive! 


	6. A Nasty Surprise and a Body in the Sewer

back again! this time, i decided that i'd make it easier on you guys. so i have here for you a little dictionary of the 30s slang i used in this chapter:

filly- girl/girlfriend

chicago overcoat- a coffin

to take the fall- to take the blame for a crime

bubs- er, i think you can figure that one out when you read it in context

spade- derogatory name for an african-american

sap- idiot

* * *

Bonejangles stopped dead in the doorway and his spirits fell.

"The hell _you _doin' here?" he spat at the newly arrived corpse who sat at the empty bar. The man turned, and Bonejangles noticed with satisfaction that there was a large and messy bullet hole through his forehead.

"Bojangles?" the man sneered, "That you? Well, I see your skin's rotted away. You do that on purpose? So no one could tell you're a negro?"

"I see you got yourself shot in the head," Bonejangles retorted, not letting the man's insult affect him, "I knew it'd happen sooner or later. You're too much of a sleazeball for folks to put up with for long, Rubinetti."

The man formerly known as Harry the Hammer stood slowly and deliberately, his eyes narrowing.

"This here is the work of your little filly," he said, pointing at the hole in his head, "Oh, but don't worry. She'll be down here soon enough and you'll be together again!"

Bonejangles' hands closed into fists.

"What did you do?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

"Me?" Rubinetti asked innocently, "Why, nothing! Nothing at all! You know me, Bojangles, old pally, I'm a reasonable fella-"

Bonejangles scoffed and rolled his single eye.

"But my hitmen ain't so nice as me," Rubinetti continued, "They find out their boss has been bumped, they'll make sure the culprit's wearing a Chicago overcoat soon, if you catch my drift."

"Your goons'll never nail her," Bonejangles said, but even he wasn't convinced, "She's a smart doll…"

"Not smart enough," Rubinetti grinned, "A gunshot's loud, especially in a back alley."

"Damn, Lu!" Bonejangles whispered. Of all the places she could have done it…

"Not such a bright idea, was it?" Rubinetti said, "My men are all over. They'll have heard it. And when they find her, she'll have nowhere to hide and no one to take the fall for her. Y'know, I bet she's still standing there, the stupid bitch."

"Get out," Bonejangles said hatefully.

"What'd you say…?"

"You heard me."

"You don't tell me what to do, spade," Rubinetti hissed.

Bonejangles only chuckled.

"If you haven't noticed," he said, "This joint is basically mine. See that sign there? The one with _my face _on it?"

He motioned towards the sign above the door. Indeed, that was his face carved in the wood.

"So I can tell you to get out if I want to," he said smugly. Rubinetti glared at the sign and tried to formulate another comeback. Finding none, he stormed out of the pub, letting the door swing angrily closed behind him.

Bonejangles watched him go, but he sighed worriedly.

"Be careful, Lu," he said, looking up towards the ceiling, and beyond that, the Land of the Living. "Be careful…"

* * *

LuLu's hands trembled as she stood over the body. She unconsciously dropped the pistol and backed into a wall. With a hand over her mouth she tried to calm her shuddering breath. Harry's carcass was only a dark lump in the waning dusk light.

"Oh God," she whispered over and over, "Oh God…"

She pulled a cigarette out of her purse and tried to light it, but to no avail. She dropped the match which hissed and went out with a trail of smoke as it hit the wet asphalt. The cigarette soon followed it.

_Where do I go? _was all that her frightened mind could ask. And she didn't have an answer. Should she try to hide the body? But where? She looked around. To her left was the back door to the speakeasy. To her right, a grubby brick wall. Behind and in front of her were narrow alleys filled with forgotten garbage cans. She sank helplessly to her knees. She could run now, go back in through the speakeasy…but what if someone saw her? They'd wonder where Harry was. LuLu covered her ears against the noise of the nearby street. She couldn't think straight. Looking down at her feet she realized that a dark substance had run down to her feet and was smeared along the hem of her skirt. Harry's blood. She let out a strangled cry and jumped up. The blood trickled down a sewer grate underneath her. She stared. If she could just lift the metal bars…She hesitated only a moment before dragging Harry's body over next to the sewer. Pulling with all her might, she lifted the grate only a half an inch before it slipped out of her hands. She nervously ran her hands through her hair and held back a desperate sob before she tried again. With a quick heave that seemed to rip all the muscles in her arms, LuLu finally got the grate out of its metal recess. She wiped her hands on her skirt and pulled the grate a little further, but it was as far as she got.

"Hey, over here, fellas!" a gruff voice called. LuLu's insides turned to ice.

"Christ!" a large, burly man exclaimed as he stepped out of the shadows. "Got 'im good, didn't you, ya little wench!"

LuLu whirled around to meet him and slipped on the wet concrete. She tried to scoot herself away from him, but another man caught her from behind and dragged her to her feet by her short hair.

"We don't like whatcha done to our boss," the first man said menacingly.

"And you know what they say, dollface," the man who held her said with mock sweetness and a Chicago accent, "'An eye for an eye'."

From his pocket he pulled a pistol and held it to her heart. LuLu stared at it in silent terror.

"Shame to ruin such a nice pair of bubs," the man sneered as he grabbed her chest. LuLu squirmed beneath his strong grip. He grinned at the first man, who rolled his eyes.

"Just do it, Mac," he said, "Quit bein' a sap."

Mac scowled, but did as he was told. As his finger tightened on the trigger, LuLu closed her eyes and braced herself. She remembered something her mother told her long ago: "If you're ever in a situation where you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you're going to die, think of something good. It might not be so bad if you do."

LuLu was always a good girl and listened to her mother, and now was no exception. In the instant before the bullet pierced her heart, she thought of the first good thing that came into her mind.

_Maybe I'll be with Bojangles now…_

_

* * *

_

that's right, one of the many reasons that rubinetti hates bonejangles becomes apparent: he's african-american and he"stole" lulu...who's not african-american. and back then,dat's bad.

lulu _finally _died! horray!...sorta...

but what to do about rubinetti? bonejangles and lulu might be reunited next chapter, but harry'll be hanging around pestering them all the time! or worse...


	7. In The Dead Of The Night

I'M BAAAAAAACK! i'm so so so so SO sorry for the unbearably long wait! i can't believe i left you guys for so long! please forgive me! during the hiatus, i just felt so uninspired. everything i came up with sounded like crap to me, and i eventually gave up. but, lo and behold, my inspiration came back to me! so enjoy this brand new chapter, and rest assured that i WILL upload another one soon! (i PROMISE!)

* * *

It was dark. LuLu made this observation with decided firmness when she awoke. As such, she deduced that she would surely run into something if she tried to walk around just yet, so she sat up from her slouched position and waited for her eyes to adjust.

She couldn't quite recall where she was, but she had a rushed, panicky feeling that she should go somewhere, _any_where but where she was now…wherever that was… She knew that she was sitting in a chair, at a table (on which her head had been resting), but beyond that, she had no knowledge of her whereabouts.

"Oh!" she sighed, almost laughing with relief as she caught sight of the dim outline of the bar to her right. She was in the speakeasy, of course! But her smile faded as her memory began to return. Last she could remember, she had been outside.

_How did I get back in_, _though? _she asked herself, cocking her head lightly to the side. _Did someone bring me in here, or…_

She stood uncertainly and looked around at the shadows of tables and chairs. With a start, she realized-

"It's all wrong…!" she said aloud. The stage was on the opposite wall, the bar should have been further towards the door, the tables were set up in a strange fashion…She wasn't at the speakeasy. Suddenly, she gasped and fell back into her chair. The memories from earlier that night flooded back into her petrified mind. The back alley! The body! The two men! The-

"The gun…" she breathed, her eyes wide and her mouth slack. "…They shot me…"

With a horrid realization, LuLu's hand shot up to her chest, but instead of feeling smooth skin, her finger sank into a cold, gooey hole.

LuLu let out a piercing shriek, stumbling forwards, her arms flailing wildly as she scrambled for the door. Her stockings and dress caught on rough corners, ripping unruly holes in them. When she reached the door, her screams had become loud, wailing sobs. Tears streaming down her face, she desperately clung to the doorknob, staggering as the door swung open. Her legs gave out beneath her and she fell to the ground, still sobbing loudly. As she reached up to clear her blurred vision, she caught sight of her hands. Upon seeing the blue-gray skin that covered them, she shrieked again with renewed vigor.

"Excuse me, madam!" a gentleman's voice said loudly behind her. She spun around to see a tall, respectable looking man whose skin was also that strange shade. He had on a long, dusty nightgown. LuLu's screams stopped abruptly, but her face still held a look reminiscent of a frightened deer.

"You seem quite distressed," the man continued, "But allow me to remind you that people are trying to sleep around here!"

LuLu gave him a troubled blink, but said nothing.

"What's all the bloomin' noise about, Mr. McBurkley?" a woman said irritably from behind him. She was stout, with coarse black hair that stuck out at all angles.

To LuLu's horror, Mr. McBurkley looked back at the woman…_with only half his head! _Half of his face stared straight at LuLu, while the other twisted around behind him. LuLu, yet again, let out another blood-curdling cry, scooting herself backwards from the half-and-half man.

"I don't know what's wrong with her, Ms. Plum!" both sides of the head exclaimed. "She just starts yelling like that at strange intervals!"

The woman called Ms. Plum rushed forward with surprising speed. LuLu had once again given way to sobs. Looking the girl sternly in the face, Ms. Plum's features suddenly went soft.

"Well no wonder!" the woman said sympathetically, "The poor girl's new! She doesn't know what to think!"

She wrapped her arms around LuLu and led her gently back towards the pub. "Poor dear! Imagine! Having to come here in the middle of the night, it's no way to go!"

She turned back to Mr. McBurkley. "Go back to sleep, sir, nothing to worry about. A cup of warm cider and she'll be right as rain!"

* * *

"Y'know, dear," Ms. Plum said pleasantly as she heated the cider over a stove, "You look familiar to me. Do you s'pose we met in a past life?"

LuLu shook her head, her eyes still wide with shock. Ms. Plum gave her a sidelong glance and tsked.

"Poor dear," she said, pouring the steaming drink into a thick mug. She handed it to the girl. "You certainly went before your time. It's no way to go, I say, no way to go!"

"Ms. Plum…?" LuLu said quietly.

"Yes, dear, what is it?"

"Do…do _all _dead people come here…?"

"As far as I know. Why, dear? Are you looking for someone?"

LuLu ignored the question. "So…bad people don't go to one place and the good ones to another…?"

Ms. Plum chuckled softly and patted LuLu's shoulder. "I'm afraid not, dear. Death is actually quite similar to life. You have to deal with all the same ninnies you did while you were alive. But don't worry," she added quickly, "It's not all bad, I promise."

A ghost of a smile graced LuLu's lips before she took a sip of cider. Ms. Plum leaned on the bar, cleaning glasses with a grubby towel and humming a light tune under her breath.

Finally, LuLu got her courage up. Placing the mug decidedly on the counter she cleared her throat. Ms. Plum looked up expectantly.

"I…am looking for someone, actually," she said, biting her lip, "Bojangles? Bojangles Johnson?"

Ms. Plum blinked with a start. "LuLu!" she said aloud.

"How did you-"

"Bonejangles showed me a picture of you! I _knew _you looked familiar!"

"He's here?" LuLu asked excitedly, not noticing the apparent name change that Bojangles had gone through.

"Yes, he and his band play here quite regularly," Ms. Plum said before her motherly side took over. "But you should wait until morning to see him. Not only do you need some rest, but…well, sometimes people go through-" she struggled to find the right words- "startling changes when they're dead…He won't look quite like you remember."

"I don't care!" LuLu said, "I have to see him!"

"Tomorrow," Ms. Plum said sternly. "Now, you come with me, dear. There's a spare apartment in the building I live in, and I'm sure no one would mind if you used it tonight."

LuLu followed closely at Ms. Plum's heels, only half hearing the woman's voice as she explained a few peculiarities of the apartment.

"…quite talkative, those cockroaches are! If they bother you, just hit them with a shoe, they'll get the point…"

LuLu sighed inaudibly. How could she even think about sleeping? She was so close to finding Bojangles again! So close, and yet…so far.

* * *

glad to be back, folks!


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